


His Achilles' heel

by h_lokidottir (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, One True Pairing, Sad and Beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/h_lokidottir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki thought he understood memory and loss. He was sadly mistaken. After all, it's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone. FrostIron</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Achilles' heel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This happens when I drink coffee after dusk. I blame A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints as well. My first attempt at Loki/Tony. Hope it isn't too bad.
> 
> I want to dedicate this to my darlings Anthony E. Stark and Tony's Loki. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these Marvel characters. But damn I wish I did.

His Achilles' heel

Insanity. All of this had been insanity, and yet… he could still sense that strange thing he never felt before, and never will. That strange little thing that gave him the sensation of an icy dagger sinking into the depths of his soul. Always likely to put him in such indescribable state. Is this what they call feelings? He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand every time it happened, the weakness that had seized him.  For the simplest of reasons. It was plain weakness...No; he was most certainly not weak. He didn't feel. He was Loki Laufeyson, after all. But yet, memories repeated themselves in his head; playing again and again. Memories somehow delicate, as pleasing as a dream, never failing to leave him bitter. The simple thought of not having the control over what happened to him had nearly driven him mad. He couldn't prevent his warm brown eyes, his smile, and his tanned skin from making unwanted appearances in his mind. 

Anyone who had known Loki would have been shocked and unable to guess that he could actually feel these kinds of things. Even the little he knew concerning feelings was radically different. This jealousy, for example. It was different from the one he had known as a young child, the one that made him manipulate the people around him. The one that earned him the title Silvertongue. No, this jealousy had no easy recourse, no way in which he could become the master strictly speaking.

He may have been more powerful; stronger than him, but he was the one who seemed to dominate the situation. Oh how he had hated it. He didn't have the power. More than that, he seethed at the red-haired wench who paraded around with him. This insignificant woman who without a doubt had no idea of the real worth of the man she had once kissed and embraced...

The slightest physical contact that Loki had witnessed gave him nausea and without wanting it, he let jealousy take control of his being. He allowed himself to close his eyes a moment, to seek refuge in his memory. He could still smell his scent, could still feel the taste of lips. He could still see his gaze, could still sense his determination and the power that emanated from him. He remembered the very moments he had spent with him, moments which would be impossible to forget. He had wanted him, in every way he could want someone.

Lost in his thinking, he didn't realize that he was staring at him intensely. Tony Stark had approached and he was now alone with him, alone with him and this attraction, tension and other turbulent emotions that seemed to fill the empty room. He took a step towards him, his gaze unwavering.

"Three words, Loki. Three words; eight letters. Did you love me, ever? I gotta know. C'mon, lie and tell me you did, make me feel like the piece of shit I am. Did you love me or not?! Answer me!"

He had never been able to say those three words, and never admitted that he wanted to. Never admitted that he almost said it, although he was unable to do so. He closed his heart to all emotion when he lost the only thing he had ever cared for, the only thing he ever truly loved. The pain did not feel real at first. But when it did, it took Loki's breath away.


End file.
